Escape
by nooraelisa
Summary: Albert Ingalls has decided he does not let Sylvia to die. They are going to run away together - but how are these two young people going to stay alive and survive, when Sylvia's health is weak and their families are looking for and trying to separate them.
1. The Blue Cat

Black-haired, quite a short teenage boy was watching a seriously sick girl laying on her bed. She was dying, the boy – who was also known as Albert Ingalls – knew it. The details did not matter that time, they were too horrible to think about. Important facts were only that she was pregnant and badly hurt.

"Albert," Sylvia said. Her voice was so quiet, sweet and beautiful that Albert hardly heard it. Sylvia was barely awake, someone else would have probably thought she was sleeping. The sleeping beauty, like Albert saw. She had brown, fluffy hair and chocolate brown eyes.

"We should run away. We should've run away a lot before," said Albert, trying to keep his innocent face calm – he did not want Sylvia seeing him crying.

"We should leave to Sleepy Eye… Winoka… Chicago. Somewhere where's a good hospital, they – they could heal you," he continued. Usually, when a fourteen-aged boy says he would like to run away, the enticement would only be an unrealistic whim. But when this boy happened to be Albert Ingalls, the plan might actually work. Even his last name would tell he was a son of Charles Ingalls, truly he was not. He had lived a street life as an orphan, which had made him quite sharp-witted. Also, perhaps not so respectable skill, he had a lot of experience of unauthorized travelling.

"Albert… thank you. But as we both know, I wouldn't make it. And you know my father," she said with suffering voice.

"Hysh about your Pa. Your life isn't his – maybe he has his opinion, but you're still the only one who has the right to decide about your living. You need to be okay, you need a future, you-"

"Simpler, you're saying you need me," Sylvia said. Some mean pastors use to say that when a person is mourning after a close one, they are just being selfish because they say that the Heaven is the best place where they would dream to be in. Sylvia's tune was far from that, she was smiling, looking at Albert with loving look. She was trying to make Albert to feel more comfortable with the situation, even they both knew it was impossible wish.

It was the evening, and Albert was eating supper with his parents and two younger sisters – Carrie and Grace. He would have liked to stay with Sylvia but in this case the rules were the rules. In the 19th century, even the Ingalls family was quite equal, parents, in focus the man of the family, had the authority.

Caroline (Albert's mother) had cooked some stew and potatoes. Albert had a reason to feel he was not hungry but he still tried to eat: on the one hand he did not want to upset his Ma, and on the other hand there were the biological reasons.

"Albert, may I ask you a question?" Caroline asked after the supper, when Charles had gone outside to the barn. Carrie was finishing her English essay, and her face seemed quite impatient; Grace was already sleeping.

"Sure, Ma," he said a little uncomfortable and put his hands in his pockets.

"I talked to Laura today after work. She said you got failed from your last exam," she said, "and you haven't even started your essay which deadline was a week ago." Albert could not decide was her voice either angry or compassionate. Maybe both: she had been a teacher in her past, which obviously meant she found education as a great value, and expected her children to succeed. But also, she was Albert's mother, and she, if anyone, understood his situation with Sylvia.

"I, um… I'm trying my best," Albert said. He knew that the time of this discussion had only been a matter of time.

"But are you?"

Albert nodded.

"I understand that right now Sylvia is the first in your order of importance. But what about you? You love Sylvia, you want to put her first and I truly see that. But even while your love ones were suffering, sometimes you just have to be selfish. You need a high education for doctor's degree, and you cannot get it without studying harder," she said. Now her voice tune sounded safer.

"I just feel it's not the main thing now. I'm able to do it later… maybe," Albert said.

"Try to be realistic, Albert. We all wish Sylvia gets better but the truth is she won't. You can't just suddenly choose that school and becoming a doctor means nothing to you, when yesterday you were so purposeful."

Albert scowled. Unexpectedly he was angry. "Pa told you to talk to me again, didn't he?" he asked. "Look, nice try, but I told Sylvia that his father's opinion doesn't matter. When it comes to my Pa, my opinion still stays."

Caroline stayed quiet, just looked at Albert. She was thinking should she give him a hug or rage about being unrespectable.

And then, suddenly, Albert was sitting on the floor and cried. He was trembling, unclearly muttering something like "she's gonna die" and "I love her so". Carrie had noticed the personal of the situation, surreptitiously got her stuff and quietly climbed on the loft. Of course she was inquisitive, like all the eleven year-old girls, but she wanted to respect her older brother.

"I know it is hard but…" Caroline started but then clamed up. No words could comfort a teenager whose first relationship was ending so tragically. She ended up stroking his hair.

"Go to the loft now with your sister, you need some rest," Caroline said and nodded in the direction of the ladder. Albert obeyed, and there he saw Carrie was still awake.

"Hey, I'm sorry," he said. He thought the topic might've been too much for that young child. She knew everything about Sylvia, thanks to a mercantile keeper – Harriet Oleson - who had told the whole town she was pregnant through telephone. Typically for her, she had distorted the truth that Albert was the father, but Carrie was wiser: she knew her brother would not ever have sex before the marriage (the church taught it was a sin).

"There is nothing to apologize for," she replied and sounded more like an adult than a little girl, "we all have right to show our feelings."

"Pa once told me a story about a blue cat," Carrie continued, "it was blue because it had cried so much, that the tears had colored its white fur into blue. It was ashamed, thought that others were normal and it just odd. But it wasn't. There was another cat, white like the brightest snow, but sad and embittered like the darkest night. The white one was always angry, selfish, always trying to drive others down. The anger, which was caused by the sadness, had to come out somehow. She did not have real friends – nobody likes those who are mean and cold. Its sadness didn't go away, but the blue cat instead, who cared about others, got real friends and sympathy. It lived happily ever after, with the blue fur reminding it that it should never be ashamed of showing the feelings."

"A great story, but I'm not going to drive anyone down because of this," Albert said and grinned a bit. Younger ones always knew how to make people happy.

"I know, I just like the story," Carrie said smiling.

"We should sleep now," Albert said, and without waiting for Carrie's reply, he pulled the curtain closed. He was not going to sleep, he was just going to pretend it. While Carrie had told about the story, he had created a plan. And that was what he was going to implement.


	2. Midnight's help

Carrie had fallen asleep, and the whole house was quiet like the oldest primeval forest where no one lived. Albert did not move, but also was careful to not close his eyes. It was hard: the day had been really long and he was exhausted. Temptation to fall asleep, the angel's voice inside his head, tried hard to win him but he was not going to give up.

He heard how the door was opened and closed: Charles had come back inside. Caroline was doing something, Albert did not recognize the voice but soon he found out:

"Would you like some tea?" Caroline asked.

"Yes, please," Charles replied. It sounded like they were vaguely walking around the room but Albert was sure their every step had a reason.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."

Then they talked about their days. Caroline talked about a funny happening between Harriet and Nellie. Harriet had gotten upset when Nellie had blurt that her pancakes were not good enough for their regular customer who happened to always complain if the food were not perfect (when it comes to the Oleson family, you cannot say he did not have a good reason).

"He should care about his own business. Maybe, if he believes he is some top chef, he could cook his own pancakes – I am not going to work as his personal breakfast waitress anymore," Caroline tried to imitate Harriet's voice, "you, my Nellie darling, are going to do it for me."

"And then, Nellie concisely reminded her that actually it hadn't been Harriet's job to make the pancakes in the first place," Caroline continued.

"Let me guess – then Harriet blubbered and ran by Nels?"

"Exactly." They both laughed, and Albert snorted.

Silence followed the conversation but Albert did not move. Carrie was snoring, and that annoyed him: he wanted to be completely sure of the voices downstairs.

"Did you talk with the son?" Charles eventually asked.

"Yes. He is very upset, unfortunately."

"Mh… poor boy."

"And Sylvia, the happening is unforgivable," Caroline said and sighed, "must be hard for her father. He tried so hard to guard her, even too hard – I've heard she thought he just hated her – but failed everything. Charles, I think we should pray for him – at least once, on next Sunday."

"Yes. He's one of those men I didn't like to pray for, I mean, what kind of father blames his daughter of getting raped by some maniac in a mask. Did he really think it was Sylvia's fault? But you're still right, we have to think about him."

"You can't judge a man you don't know well. He was just protecting her."

"You're right," Albert could hear Charles's smile, "let's pray for him a day after tomorrow."

"Are you done with the tea?" Caroline asked, "I am tired."

It took a while that they had fallen asleep. Albert had his opportunity. He carefully stood up, changed his clothes and started to pack everything he had: clothes, three dollars of money, matchsticks, and a blanket. He also took some of his school supplies: a notebook, a pencil and his biology book. With his brown traveling bag he went downstairs, packed two ham sandwiches, wore his jacket and quietly sneaked out from the house.

It was really dark, and for fall also cold. Albert would have liked to get an oil lamp with him, but he did not want to risk his runaway. What would his parents, or Carrie, say if they had found him in that moment? His father would have punished him for sure, and that was something he did not want to. At once, with another girl that Albert had liked very much, Charles had caught him as a stowaway. He had bought him a ticket, but also had been very angry. Nothing is more awful than a disappointed parent.

Even though Albert had walked the same path for couple years, it was quite hard to perceive in the pitch-black night. Only the crescent was lighting up his way. He was not scared, though; he had an experience of masking himself as a werewolf with intent to scare a bully.

At last, he found a way to the center of Walnut Grove. Just in case of night's pedestrians, drunks (there was not a saloon in the town, but every place had their so-called village fools), and Harriet Oleson who happened to be worried of the mercantile, restaurant and the switchboard, he had to be more careful. He walked as near to walls as possible, checked every window before sneaking by, and then quietly succeed to pass the center area.

Laura and Almanzo Wilder lived in a light house, a couple miles away from the downtown. This was the hardest part of the plan, but Albert did not have a choice. He took a long breathe, sneaked by Laura's minimal garden (where she tried to grow some vegetables), the barn, and the henhouse, until he arrived in front of the window of their bedroom. They were both sleeping, for Albert, luckily quite far from each other. He definitely did not want to awake Almanzo.

Albert took his shoes off and silently opened the window. Unfortunately, it creaked, but luckily either woke up. He climbed inside, sneaked close to the bed and looked at Laura. He hesitated a bit: he could have taken Sylvia alone, but Laura's help could simplify everything. He only had three dollars – maybe three dollars and one penny with a good luck. Those probably would not be enough for railway tickets, not to mention for everything else. He realized that hesitating was just foolish, so he carefully placed his hand into Laura's mouth (while feeling like an assassin) and woke her up.

Her first reaction, just like Albert had assumed, was a fright. She did not shout because Albert knew the right grip, but her eyes were terrified. Then, since she discovered Albert, she relaxed, showed some marks of being confused, grabbed Albert's hand and left the room.

"What on world are you doing here?" Laura whispered angrily. Albert pointed the door: he wanted to talk outside. Laura nodded, wore her jacket and shoes, and went outside with Albert who was following.

"Okay, answer my previous question," Laura said.

"I need your help," Albert said.

"Go on."

"I want you to not tell Almanzo, or Pa, or anyone even if you won't comply."

"Well, seems like I should, but in for a penny in for a pound, I promise. Now, just go on."

"You know Sylvia, right? She's going to die if I don't help her. No one is even trying, but I know that if we made it to a hospital, she would have a chance to be okay. I have to do it, do you understand?"

"What?" Laura asked and shook her head, "Do you mean you'd just take Sylvia? How… what, try to be realistic. You can't do such a thing – like come on, she's not feeling well at all."

"I remember when couple years ago my sister and I had a friend. He got to know he was going to die soon, so we helped him to make his dream come true. He wanted to see the Pacific, so we sneaked to a freight wagon, didn't care a thing of the extremely strict employee, and in the end we succeed. Even Pa was with us," Albert said, "Where did that spirit go?"

"It was a different situation. We just needed to travel across the states, for so long that we arrived to California and the Pacific. We weren't saving anyone's life, you know. We didn't have a coming baby and pregnant, dying, girl with us."

"Of course it was. He happened to have an incurable leukemia, so there was no chance to heal him. But at this time there is a chance, without a try there is not. I'm doing it anyway, whether you help or not," Albert said.

"Okay, um, you need some money, right?"

"Yes. I wouldn't have to break a law with the travelling part."

Laura considered a while, and then she said: "Okay."

"You'll help me?" Albert said smiling.

"I'm coming with you."

"You… what?" Albert asked. That was an answer he did not except to hear.

"Just think about it. You're both under-aged. I, instead, am not only an adult but also your teacher and a sister. What would others think if a fourteen year-old boy appeared to the first train of the day with a girl like Sylvia? Some might think about something, maybe the fact that you're escaping. All the imaginable suspicions and prejudices would cause troubles for you. But if I'm with you, nothing of that would happen. If someone asked something, I could just show my teacher's diploma, and explain we were having a study tour but she got sick. Ashamed should be a person who doesn't believe a teacher," Laura said. She was shaking her head again, but also smiling a bit.

"So, you mean, you're actually coming?"

"I want you to understand that it's completely insane, but I'm on your side. Hold on, I have to write a letter for Almanzo and pack. See you in fifteen minutes."

"Hey, you're not telling him the whole truth, right?" Albert quailed.

"It will be about a work," Laura promised and left.

"I love you," Albert mumbled and grinned. He sat on the ground during the wait. Things were better than he had assumed: he had thought Laura would have gone into Charles or Almanzo immediately, and Albert would have gotten a punishment. Or at least that she would not have been helped him. But now, he had Laura with him. A person who knew what to do, and had right to do whatever she wanted to. Albert was sure they were going to succeed well. They just had to get Sylvia without waking up his father. He also hoped Sylvia was okay in that moment, not gotten worse (or died already). And if she was, he hoped was she okay with the trip.


	3. The Riders of the Sunrise

"What an earth are you doing?" Albert asked when Laura had arrived with two traveling bags. They both seemed heavy.

"It's quite reasonable to take the necessary right away," Laura said, "this time we're going to travel legally, you know."

"Still… ugh, okay then. We should go," Albert said, "Sylvia's lives there," he continued and pointed the way with his index finger. Laura nodded and they started to walk. They would have wanted to get a horse with them, but decided to go on foot. Almanzo needed them both, they could not take the horse to the train, and even though Laura was an adult and had a right to go wherever she liked, a big animal would have caused more sounds and attention than pedestrians.

"Okay, explain your plan me more specifically," Laura said. They hardly saw each other. The night distorted the colors and created a lot of dusky shadows.

"Well, first we'll get Sylvia, there think up the best way to go to the railway station. Then we just go there, take the next train and be in contact with the hospital."

"You know, there are quite much of deficiency in the strategy," Laura remarked.

"Well, I know. But we didn't have a better plan in the previous time either. I'm sure we're going to figure everything out. Now, our main problem is Sylvia's father. If he is awake, we have to make some kind of red herring. If he's sleeping, we have to remember he might be quite touchy."

"I'm trusting you at this time."

The length between Wilder's and Webb's places was not geographically so long, but it surely felt for Laura and Albert. They did not speak – they did not have much to talk about – and they were both feeling fidgety. If Sylvia's father was awake, or would eventually woke up, what would happen? Albert was sure that we would take his daughter by himself (which would kill Sylvia at the worst), and also tell Charles and Caroline what their children were doing. Almanzo would have been informed and, even though he probably would have understood they were doing the right thing, he would have lost his marbles.

The Webb's place looked perceptible inhospitable. Nothing like horror story places where dark powers are waiting for the visitors, but unwelcoming and clinical. There was a lack of joy.

"He's awake," Albert said referring to the light that came inside.

"Oh no. What are we going to do?"

"During walking I got a bad idea. Any idea what time is it?" Albert said smirking.

"Probably something between four and five in the early hours. Why's that?"

"You're the teacher, you also taught Sylvia, so maybe you could make up some kind of school conversation with him. And I could take her at the same time – and then you'd hurry to us and we'd escape fast."

"What does the time matter?" Laura asked.

"Gosh, Mrs. Wilder, a teacher can't be that stupid. He has to think that you woke up early to talk with him, and four to five is a realistic time in your case."

Laura nodded. "Okay. See you in the barn in fifteen minutes. Be quiet."

"Be believable," Albert said and left. He wondered why everything always had to be easier said than done – theoretically successful but practically so hard. That was something he had learned in Winoka, and other places he had lived in alone as an orphan. Many of those people, who had had a happy childhood under their mother's wing, seemed to think that if you had a well-written expensive ink on a good quality paper, you could not fail. If you planned a path without monsters through a dangerous labyrinth, you could not face them and die. But Albert knew the difference between theories and real life: the human mind is always more complicated than planning and the most presumptive option. Anything could happen and you always have to be prepared.

He quietly knocked on Sylvia's window, and luckily it woke her up. She squinted, then smiled and beckoned him to come in. Albert opened the window, stepped in and walked by Sylvia's bed. He pointed his traveling bag.

"Wanna runaway?" Albert whispered smirking. He was glad Laura was speaking loudly.

Sylvia nodded and smiled again. "Would you pack for me, please," she whispered. Albert took her bag, grabbed some clothes, her shoes and a bottle of analgesic. Then he quietly closed the bag and went back to Sylvia. He placed both suitcases on his shoulders and took the girl on his arms. They walked by the window, Sylvia cautiously opened it that Albert could step outside. Then she closed the window and they quickly went to the barn.

"These are both your father's horses?" Albert asked. There were two horses, both were brown.

"Yes. Are you going to steal them?" Sylvia asked.

"Not exactly, just borrow. We have to get out of here fast because I'm sure your father will quickly find out you're gone. Laura, my sister, will take the other one, and we ride with this one. Is that fine?"

Sylvia nodded. Albert trussed her and the bags on horses' backs and then harnessed them.

"Laura should come in a minute," Albert said worried and looked at Sylvia: she looked tired and sick. Albert just could not lose her, that being was too beautiful.

"Everything ready?" Laura had arrived. "We have to leave immediately, her father said he was going to look up her," she continued pointing at Sylvia.

"Not good," Albert said shaking his head and mounted a horse, "let's go."

Laura did the same. The horses trotted as fast as siblings ventured to let them to. Albert heard a door opening and some man shouting, but he did not look back. Sylvia's father did not have a chance to reach them without a horse.

"We can slow down a bit," Laura said after a couple of miles.

"Yeah," Albert said, "what an earth did you say to Mr. Webb, by the way?"

"I asked him to fill in some papers that I quickly wrote before it. I told that need an official divorce paper – which actually is not true, but he seems like a man who doesn't know a lot about school's inner business. Of course, he believed me. And then, after judging me a bit, he asked me some questions and we just talked. It was simple."

"You're pretty clever for a stupid," Albert said smiling and shaking his head.

"Or then I was not stupid in the first place," Laura said laughing.

"Yes you were."

"Okay then, but just a bit. You, instead, are still insane." Albert did not answer, he just smirked and shook his head. The sun was rising, and the sky colored as a gradient between orange and carmine. It was a really beautiful morning since it was warm and the sunset created shadows of everything – them, trees, even the underbrush.

Their trip to Springfield's railway station lasted long. It was already a daytime when they finally got there. The place was full of people: some very busy hurrying to their work, some begging for money (Albert had the experience), and some just chilling – probably going for a holiday.

"Should we go in and ask for the next train?" Laura asked.

"What about the horses?" Sylvia asked couching.

"I'll ask, you watch the horses," Albert said. He gave the bridle to Sylvia, walked through all those people (he accidently walked into an old lady who irritably told him to watch out) and went in the head house. Everything there seemed busy: the queue was long, the cash employee was working with maximum speed, and the people were impatient. Albert sighed and started to wait, that was pretty much the only thing he could. He hoped that the right train would not leave during the waiting.

After about ten to fifteen minutes, the last man (who was going to California to see his grandmother) in front of Albert left and it was his turn.

"And you?" the employee asked impatiently.

"Sleepy Eye," Albert said.

"The next one leaves in an hour and fourteen minutes. You can buy the tickets in the train, have a nice day and trip. Next?"

"Thank you, sir," Albert said and walked back outside to Laura and Sylvia. They were all sitting on a wooden bench, Laura was holding the horses, and Albert was giving a stroke to Sylvia who was about to fall asleep. They watched how the unknown people rushed to a black steam train Chicago as the destination. Those who did not go in the train were saying goodbyes and diligently waving their hands. They heard a whistle, the train left and the people stood there for a tiny moment, a plaintive look on their faces, then realized they could not see the train anymore and left to their wagons. The same repeated once, but the destination was to California and with less people.

"Let's go. Leave the horses here with this writing with them. Someone surely finds them and does what we want," Albert said when the train arrived, gave a piece of paper (where was Webb's address and name) to Laura and helped Sylvia to stand up.

They went to the train and found quickly found free seats behind a second-class compartment. They got company: two black-suited men in front of them and a young female next to them. A really loud couple sat on the seats behind.

"Good afternoon. Sleepy Eye?" a conductor asked. He was an old man with friendly, smiling face. Laura and Albert nodded at the same time.

"It makes two dollars and twenty cents for three people," he said. Laura gave him the money and he gave her three tickets.

"If you get hungry, feel free to go the front of the train. We have three different kinds of breads, orange juice, milk and coffee. Have a nice trip."

"Thank you," Laura said. Did not take long and the train left. Albert looked out the window and saw all the people waving their hands again, but he did not know anything. He was just thinking what his father was thinking right now: was he already looking for him, or did he thought he had just left early to school. Of course, Carrie would quickly run to tell him that two of her siblings were gone. Albert shook his head, but then relaxed. At least now they were all safe.


	4. Sleepy Eye

The compartment was vociferous. The couple behind Albert, Laura and Sylvia was carefully planning their trip, the men in front of them were having an impassioned conversation about political and social problems, the young woman was quickly flipping the pages of her newspaper, and some gabbling was heard from the front of the compartment.

"I then definitely want to visit in that hat store of that street corner. I've heard that they sell those orange, newfangled and fashionable brimmed hats with lace straight from Europe – some of them might even be from France. Just think what Miss White would say if she saw that kind of hat in my head. She would probably squeal with delight," the woman behind explained loudly.

"Whoever would squeal with delight seeing you even without the hat, but of course we'll visit there if you so want," the man answered. Their discussion sounded so cliché that it almost sickened Albert. Even though he was in love, he was never going to understand that kind of adulation. He looked at Sylvia, who was sitting on his lap, grinned and stroked her bangs.

"Hayes is a sane man otherwise, but I don't see a point in that restricting of Chinese immigration," the man in the front talked instead.

"Well, it's not his decision alone, and I also understand the restricting. It's internal politically reckless to employ migrants if there's no work enough even for us Americans," the other one replied.

"We are all migrants, actually. Secondly, I find it more reckless to show that kind of way to coming policy-makers. I think all restricting refers to socialism, not to capitalism where I think United States should strive to in the first instance. When the Europeans came here, they knew very well that being a frontiersman would not be a piece of cake. The saying that every man is the architect of his own future describes it. If a Chinese gets work, but American doesn't, it's simply about that the Chinese has internalized the late saying better. The migrants, especially the non-Europeans, would only bring certain multiculturalism and new, fresh, views. The employment of Americans doesn't have anything to do with them."

The other was answered to the comment by criticizing the capitalism and otherwise justifying his argument, but Albert did not feel like listening to them any longer. He reposed his head to a window glass and beware of temptation of closing his eyes. Numerous prairie trees passed as a velvet green line, scatter very white fleecy clouds were blocking the sun to shine directly, but, nevertheless, Albert noticed a few drops of sweat trickling on his forehead. Strangely cool autumn night had surprisingly changed into a sticky heat.

"I wonder what Manly is doing right now," Laura thought out loud.

"What would you think?" Albert asked.

"Probably he's working. I'm not so sure at all. Pa has probably talked to him already because of course he sees if someone else is ringing the school bell. He works at mill, though."

"I wonder who's teaching today," Albert wondered.

"Hopefully someone else than Harriet Oleson," Laura laughed.

"La vie est belle," Albert imitated pronouncing poorly. Both laughed and Sylvia smiled also. Mrs. Oleson had been placing Laura when she had misinterpret the words of school inspector. Oleson had thought that students should know how to speak French and study visual arts even in a village community like Walnut Grove. Laura had gotten her monkey up, given the teaching post to Harriet herself who had proved not only a very bad teacher but also even a poorer French-speaker. Laura had come back afterwards because pupils had been wishing it, and the school inspector had found that there had been no rhyme or reason in Harriet's teaching.

"Would you guys like some coffee? I'm so tired that I can't stay awake," Albert asked. Laura nodded, but Sylvia asked to bring something else: she was not sure what her body would take in that condition and what it would not. So Albert stood up, walked through the second class compartment and arrived to the first class. People who were sitting there seemed a bit more wealthy and dignified. Unpleasantly, Albert felt that a one madam dressed in a frilly dress was turning up her nose to him, and coldly explained something about him to the person next to her. Albert bit his lower lip and continued his way to the front of the train.

Like Albert had kind of expected, the place was full of grown-up men – all the women and children were nowhere to be seen, apart from a waitress. The woman remained Albert's mother by her appearance: her blonde hair were plaited as a tight chignon, her eyes twinkled beautifully, and the white working outfit made her body beautiful. Albert smirked by himself and went to buy two cups of coffee and one glass of orange juice. He got an auburn wooden tray for carrying.

"Hey boy, will you play some cards?" someone asked offering a deck to Albert.

"Thanks, but no," Albert said nervously and left the premises as quickly as he could. Who would know if the men had played for money, and Albert or who knew that such a thing would ever end up well.

Coffee freshened up Albert, and orange juice perked up Sylvia's feeling. Nonetheless Albert was worried about her: her sunburnt face looked like pale and under her beautiful eyes were dark shadows. Her smile seemed contrived and speaking vacuous. Albert did not ask anything, though, because he found it rude. Sylvia would tell by herself if she felt something was wrong.

"I've seen you somewhere," the newspaper lady next to them said to Laura so unexpectedly that they all three winced. She seemed cheery: her eyebrows were plucked into a rounded shape, smiling mouth was painted dark red and light brown curls were combed back.

"What makes you think so?" Laura asked after recovering from fright.

"You are a teacher, aren't you?" the woman asked smiling cheerfully. Laura nodded.

"I'm not sure where, but I surely remember a teacher who looked like you."

"Are you a teacher also, then?" Laura asked.

"I'm on my way to my first job, so in principle yes."

"Will you teach in Sleepy Eye?" Laura asked enthusiastically, "Could I help you anyhow? I mean, starting teaching might not to be a piece of cake. I'm probably not staying there for long, I haven't decided yet," she created a significant look to Albert, "but I think at least a week."

"Are you honestly that kind?" the woman asked perplexed. Laura nodded determinedly: also that she felt teaching (also teaching the other teachers) was fun, she had learned that helping others was important.

"Gilda Rivers," Gilda introduced smiling thankfully.

"Laura Wilder," Laura replied also smiling.

The rest of the trip went quite normally. Sylvia fell asleep on Albert's lap, Laura and Gilda were getting to know each other, and Albert were mostly looking out the window listening to Laura and Gilda. The train stopped a few times to smaller stations where some passengers exited. As an irritation to Albert, the couple behind them did not get out before Sleepy Eye, but the whole time talked so loudly that it was impossible to ignore the talking point.

After a long time the train had finally stopped in Sleepy Eye. Albert had woken Sylvia up and they, Laura and Gilda left the train at the same time. Moving had been hard in the station because everyone had concurrently rushed out and most had headed to same way than them. Gilda had informed that she lived half a mile away from the center, wished good nights, and walked to the left. They had decided that Gilda would come to the blind school for seven. Laura had necessarily wanted to help her with preparing.

"For real, I don't understand you. How can anyone be that excited about working…" Albert muttered by himself. Laura laughed, but did not answer.

"Are you sure that our visiting is fine for your sister? For Mary, wasn't that her name?" Sylvia asked shyly while they were walking towards the blind school.

"I have an experience of over talking Mary, don't worry," Laura answered Albert's behalf, "and also I'm very sure that this is fine for her."

"You're Sylvia's teacher," Albert remarked, "talking about over talking an older sister maybe doesn't show a good example."

"You're right. Sylvia, if you ever need to buy a gift for your church's pastor, do not over talk your imaginary big sister to order medicine bottles to double the money – it won't work," Laura said strictly but smirking. Albert shook his head and Sylvia laughed.

Laura knocked the door of the blind school with her knuckle. Hester-Sue Terhune came to open the door, and almost screamed when she saw Laura. Hester-Sue was a teacher in the blind school with Mary and Adam (Mary's husband). She was dark-skinned, black-haired, and she was wearing a light red dress.

"But this is a surprise!" she happily shouted and gave a hug to Laura.

"Come inside, I'll get Mary," she continued. They stepped in and waited in a lobby area. Laura smiled because even though the place was clean in that moment, it reminded her about what it had been before the blind school. About a year ago, Laura had seen a signboard which had said the house was for rent, and she had piled in for a better look. There had been a horrible mess, and Houston-lodger had not gotten happy about Laura's questions and chaffering. In the end, Laura had succeed to over speak Houston and the house had gotten a transformation to blind school. Though, the biggest thanks belonged to Almanzo who, while a fight between Laura and him, had secretly worked to help them to get the right sum.

"Laura! Albert!" Mary came walking quickly downstairs and smiled. Adam was coming behind her.

"Who is she?" Adam asked talking about Sylvia. Mary frowned because she was blind and did not know about the third person.

"This is Sylvia. She is, um, my girlfriend," Albert said and explained everything from Sylvia's pregnancy to accident. His voice was wavering a bit because he was afraid that Mary would call their father immediately and told where they were.

"Horrible," Mary gasped out after hearing the story. She heaved a sigh and then continued: "Perhaps this is wrong for Pa, but for all I care you can stay here."

"Oh thank you, Mary," Albert said with relief.

"I can make you a bed upstairs. Sylvia, Albert, come with me," Hester-Sue said compassionately and left. Laura, Mary and Adam stayed downstairs.

"You can sleep here," Hester-Sue said when they arrived to the top floor. It was a small room that was probably meant for visitors in the first place. The room changed into a lot cozier when the oil lamp on a nightstand next to the bed was ignited. The bed was suitably for two, and moreover a nightstand's small locker, there was a light brown shelf in left where they could put their stuff. Hester-Sue changed a cover to the bed and put two voluminous pillows on it.

"Here," she said, "feel like you were at home."

"I don't know how to thank you," Albert said.

"Thanks," Sylvia said and sat on the bed. He looked like pale and seemed to be almost falling asleep. Albert helped her on her back.

"Is everything okay?" Albert asked worried.

"I'm tired and my rib hurts," Sylvia said, "but otherwise I'm alright."

"Are you sure that the pain isn't anything serious?"

Sylvia nodded, but Albert did not completely believe her. He did not venture to give her a medicine for he was afraid that it would influence to pregnancy, so he only told her to rest. He looked at Sylvia for a while when she closed her eyes and quickly fell asleep, and then left downstairs to check the others.

Hester-Sue had gone ahead, and four people were sitting and talking in the kitchen. Albert sat down next to Laura, who in turn was sitting next to Mary. Adam and Hester-Sue were opposite them.

"So, your father doesn't know that you're here?" Adam asked looking at Albert. His tune was a bit grim, but also understanding: he had been a teacher for long, and in that moment he was studying to become a lawyer.

"Laura wrote a letter to Almanzo, I'd assume that Pa knows already. I just didn't want to risk anything. I so hope that Sylvia gets better, and I know it would be possible. Pa wouldn't ever give me a chance to try," Albert answered.

"I understand. I just hope that Mr. Ingalls doesn't run here in a fit of anger," Adam said. Mary laughed and stood up. She got them coffee mugs, set them to table and poured some coffee in them. Then she sat back down.

"How are Pa and Ma doing?" Mary asked.

"Just basic," Laura answered, "which means fine. Ma is still working in the restaurant, so I'd say things are better than ever before."

"Nice to hear," Mary said smiling. She had always said to be beautiful. In spite of blindness, her bright blue eyes had kept their color and sparkling, and nothing impeded her to curl her blonde hair to a beautiful bun.

"How have you been doing?" Laura asked in turn. Albert kept quiet: even though he found it nice to see Mary, Adam and Hester-Sue after a long time, he could not stop worrying about Sylvia.

"Brilliantly," Hester-Sue said, "there has been some problems with one student, but seems that Adam has figured it out."

"Let's see," Adam said smirking.

"Can I go to sleep already?" Albert asked after drinking his coffee as fast as he had been able to. It had been hard because he was not really accustomed to its taste. After getting a permission he left the table, went by the stairs and went for climbing them.

"Albert?" he heard Mary's voice behind him.

"Yes?" Albert asked.

"Actually, I can't even find the words. If you want to talk about it, just come to talk," Mary said. Her voice sounded strange. There echoed a pure compassion from it.

"Thank you," Albert said, "really."

"Sleep well," Mary said, looked a while in Albert's direction and then walked back to the kitchen. Albert went upstairs to Sylvia, and luckily saw her being alright. She was still sleeping. Albert changed his casual clothes into a white cotton nightclothes, and without waking Sylvia up he went next to her.

"I cannot lose you," he whispered so quietly that barely heard it by himself. The saying that love was a drug was correct. It felt like it was not possible to live without, and that it was the biggest and most precious treasure that could be coveted more till kingdom come. If it still had to be given up, would experience an apocalypse without a psychical death. Albert did not know if he could live with that kind of mental pain. He did not know where he could get motivation to do his daily chores as diligently as before, not to speak of studying for becoming a doctor. He had experienced so many miserable things in his past – even though he so was Albert Ingalls, during some short moments the painful memories came back to his mind. He had not been talked about them to anyone, and was not sure if he could ever get rid of his wounds. If Sylvia died, they all would open, and not even the thickest gauze would help the invisible scars.


End file.
